A Feather of a Thought
by SerenitysBelly
Summary: A late night confrontation allows some feelings and thoughts to escape. Post BDM, no real spoilers. Fluffy. One shot.


A/N: This will be my first Firefly fic and my return to fan fiction; I hope I'm not rusty. I'm nervous about getting the dialect right, it just won't feel right without the slang and such they use. Any tips would be so greatly appreciated. I've been toying with this idea since I re-watched the whole season and Serenity just back to back. While I don't usually like the idea of this pairing, it's been bugging me since. Set four or so months after BDM.

Disclaimer: I don't own this 'verse, Joss does.

Rating: Everyone. Turned into fluff. But I like it.

Title: A Feather of a Thought

She'd been having good days and bad days. While in the past her bad days used to outnumber the good, the tables had turned. She hadn't had a nightmare in weeks.

She wasn't sure if it was a good sign, or a bad one. She didn't want to forget so soon, she didn't want to move on this promptly. While the memories of years previous still were present; they didn't hurt her as they had before.

What did hurt her was the longing she began to feel.

It wasn't that she forgot him; it was more like she needed a touch to heal. She needed something that she never had to ask for before, something that she never needed before.

She tossed and turned in that gorram bed of hers, too large a bed to be alone in. The guilt of moving on gnawed at her temples and rang in her ears until she had to get out of the bed and go for a walk just to tune it out, to seek some peace.

She had been barefoot times before, but since all those secrets got out and they lost several of their beloved crew she'd been taking her late night walks barefoot more and more. At first the cold pierced the balls of her feet and she'd walk real slow. As her feet chilled to the temperature of the grating she'd pick up the pace to a wandering mosey. The silence of her footfalls and of the crew allowed her to hear and feel things she'd hardly ever heard and felt before. Things she ignored when she stomped hurried around in her boots. Serenity's hum resonated in the floors, grates, and walls. She could hear Serenity's heartbeat better than she felt her own anymore. She was singing, Serenity was singing. It was enough to bring her to the edge of tears, that precarious situation where the lightest breeze would knock the droplets from their perch. She didn't like it. She felt guilty bathing herself in this happiness, in this life.

She was sorry. She couldn't help it. She wanted to apologize.

"_Dui bu qi_," she said louder than she imagined.

"I knew I felt a body haunting Serenity, woke me up, but there ain't no real need for an apology," Mal rounded the corner. He had an understanding smile on his face, the kind of smile she hated, a smile dredged in pity.

She halted her wandering pace and looked him in the eye. Coming into contact with him shook her from her guilt and flooded her with longing. She tried to dam it up, slow the current down, but her heart broke more each time she tried to shut the feeling out.

He could've noticed that guilty confused look on anyone, but it magnified when he saw it on her. It wasn't a look she donned often. She finally spoke up.

"Captain," she nodded.

"There something a foot in that mind of yours River? You look all sorts of worried."

"River isn't worried. I don't mean to concern you. I just felt restless and you sneaking up on her didn't help."

It pulled at his heart to hear her speak sometimes. He loved the melodic tones, they warmed him something powerful, but when she slipped in and out of points of views it pained him. He'd taken a strong liking to her since Miranda as the good days began to pile up and found himself hurting for her when there were bad days out in the lonesome black.

Simon's time was divided between his two loves now, Kaylee and River, he wasn't always around to answer her every cry, and sometimes she'd spend hours tearfully perched atop a tower of crates so tall that it amazed him how in a _fei fei pi gu_ she got up there to begin with. Other times she'd hide, under tables, behind couches, murmuring, chanting, and praying. Times like those bad days he wanted to scoop her up more than ever. When he'd think about it and smile, it felt all manner of wrong.

"Captain?"

He hadn't spoke in a good long while, and she began to think something was amiss.

"Nights out here in the black since Miranda have a way of making my mind wander."

"There is always night out here."

He wanted to reach out to her, to show her some light, some happiness, some warmth. Without noticing his right arm left his side and his hand cupped her cheek.

Her eyes fluttered to rest on the wrist belonging to the warm hand cradling her cheek. He could feel her gaze balance on him; it tiptoed lightly towards his elbow tickling him. Her eyes darted back to his and lost themselves.

"She can't break free."

She pulled at his heart, tugged at his thoughts never breaking the contact.

Mal's hand had never felt so much electricity from another person's skin. He couldn't have ever imagined the intensity of the power. It only made sense that it could come from River. It almost hurt his palm.

She was shifting her weight from side to side, sliding ever so much closer. She stopped with half a foot between them.

"Six."

"'Scuse me _bao bei_?"

"Six inches," she clarified, "The maximum distance it takes to feel the radiating heat from a body."

He took a step back, six inches was too close. Especially if she was thinkin' about heat from him.

"Captain," she started once he took a step back. "I need a touch, a feeling. Make the guilt stop washing over me."

"Guilt little River? You ain't got nothing to be guilty about. Now an old man like me, I got plenty to be guilty about," some of the pain washed from her face.

"Not your mind, your mind is right. That hidden feather of a feeling you tucked away in the back of it."

He had an inkling of what she was seeing, and it embarrassed him. The thought he sometimes played with was light, flighty, and tickled him. It was unusual for him to say the least.

"Try it."

His hand fell away from her cheek.

"It's too tempting not to, feathers are pretty and light. They float through the wind, sometimes hard to catch, but you have one locked away untouched, grasp it."

He listened to the music of her voice, and knew what she was saying. It was strange how the spoken metaphors had become discernable as a simple command. '_Hold me._'

He was unsure how to go about it, until he felt her hands slide under the back of his suspenders. Holding him directly around the middle, she grasped her hands together.

"Smell. Comfort. Right."

He was confused, shocked, and bewildered for a second. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She melted, her troubles in a puddle running through the floor grate away from her.

It was done, it wasn't complete. Something was missing. He looked down at her with her ear pressed against his chest listening.

"Mal. Alive."

"River..."

She rested her chin on his chest looking up at him. He leaned down kissing her forehead. It wasn't done.

Her lips tickled. She was anxious. Then he took her mouth with his and they weren't her lips anymore they were his. He'd stolen it. It was complete.

She curled up to him in the pilot's seat, looking out at the stars until the crew began to stir from their night's sleep. There was work to be done.


End file.
